Outliers
by xPockyNoMikox
Summary: KoujixRyo. The night after Professor Ryoko's symposium, Kouji reflects on her ideas, and Ryo relates them to their own relationship. Fluff.


DISCLAIMER: You know the drill by now. I don't own Generator Gawl. The person who does is some rich man way off in Japan, and since I'm not that rich man (I'm not even a _man,_ for god's sake!) please don't sue me!

A/N: I noticed that there needed to be more Gawl fics out there, so I went and wrote one. Just a warning before you read, I've only seen the first two DVDs, so if any of my info is incorrect, please let me know (preferably in a **review**). I'll really appreciate it!

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**Outliers**

I settled down behind Kouji with a sigh, leaning back against his shoulder and closing my eyes. Gawl snored loudly across the room. "What are you doing?" I murmured, stifling a yawn. Kouji's muscles rippled beneath me as his fingers flew across the keyboard of his laptop, never pausing once to acknowledge my presence. I wasn't upset; even I took second place to Kouji's laptop. It had been a difficult lesson to learn, but I'd soon realized that while he may give more attention to the computer, his emotions were saved only for me. "Kouji?" When he still didn't answer me, I turned around to lean over his shoulder and look at the screen.

A flick of his fingers closed the window, but I was able to catch a few words before the screen faded to black. "Gene pools? Why are you researching gene pools?" The phrase was connected to some conversation I'd heard, but I was tired after a day spent at the festival, and it took a moment to remember. "Are you still upset over that professor's theory?" I asked quietly, settling down again, this time at his side.

"Professor Saito challenged me to disprove it," Kouji replied, shutting down his laptop and turning it off. "And I've accepted her challenge."

I yawned again and laid my head on his shoulder again. "Why does she bother you so much?"

"She doesn't."

Sighing, I glared up at him. "Why does her _theory_ bother you, then? It's purely conjecture; she said so herself. Everyone's entitled to their own opinions."

Kouji turned so he was facing me, and his movement forced me to sit up. "Since when are you on their side?" he asked quietly, a hint of annoyance escaping his mask of indifference.

"I'm not," I replied. Moonlight slipping through the window behind me glinted off his dark eyes, and I smiled despite his frown. "She's not right, anyway. So don't worry about it." Stretching, I laid down on my futon and drew the blankets up around my neck despite the mild temperature. Kouji remained kneeling in front of me, staring thoughtfully out into the night. I murmured his name, gesturing toward the futon laid out beside mine, but he remained motionless.

"How do you know her theory is incorrect?"

I blinked sleepily up at him and met his piercing gaze. A frown creased my brow as I sat up; my tired body protested leaving the comfortable bed. "Do you love me?" I asked him, leaning back on my hands and cocking my head slightly as Gawl continued to snore in the background.

"What?" he asked, blinking in surprise.

"Do you love me?" I repeated. He responded with a tentative nod, and I rolled my eyes. "That wasn't too reassuring, Kouji." When he didn't reply, I sat up fully and explained further. "She equated love with a survival instinct, labeling it an instinct of humans used to protect and pass on our genes. Well, your love for me has nothing to do with passing on genes." I giggled. "_We_ can't procreate, now, can we?"

I was rewarded with a small smile from Kouji, barely noticeable but enough to satisfy me. I motioned to his futon again, and this time he rose from his kneeling position to lay down beside me. Snaking my arm around his waist, I reached up with the other to tug at the band that held his hair back. Silken locks came cascading down his shoulder, and I grinned impishly. "Gottcha," I laughed quietly. He frowned, but I saw the mirth glinting in his eyes. I leaned forward to brush my lips against his ear. "Don't worry so much. Her ideas are not our concern."

Silence settled around us as we lay there together, my head resting against Kouji's heart so that its beating lulled me to sleep. Kouji's voice broke the silence, quiet but still enough to shatter the stillness beginning to wash over me. "It's not her ideas that worry me. It's the implications of those ideas. If people begin to believe her, emotions such as love and kindness _will _become obsolete simply because people believe they're useless."

I pushed away the heavy hand sleep had extended to me, for I knew Kouji enough to recognize that he would not let the subject rest until he had proven it one way or the other. Not many would label Kouji the philosophical type, especially after his indifference toward the Generator project, but he had strong opinions about certain topics, and Professor Saito Ryoko's theory had covered almost all of them. "I think you're wrong," I said, shifting backwards so that I could meet his eyes. "What you said _could_ happen, but I don't think it will. There are too many people out there who love purely for the sake of love, not because of the instinct to continue their species. Love –real love– won't disappear because of the opinions of a few."

Kouji frowned at that, but didn't object. Instead, he turned away, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. I was getting drowsy again by the time he spoke. "I think you're being too idealistic," he began slowly, as if still trying to sort out his thoughts. "Your theory may be true in this society –the society of 2007– but what of our own time? The concept of a gene pool is not all that farfetched. If one were to be established, who's to say that those emotions wouldn't slowly fade away, purged from our genes by the mere existence of the gene pool?"

I blinked, not so much confused by his words but by the meaning behind them. "What are you saying? Purged from our genes?"

"If children are conceived not through the union of two people but through scientific means…" he trailed off, still gazing up at the ceiling. "Love was never a factor in the child's life to begin with, and even if it was raised by a stable two-person household, that would still not change the fact that love was not one of its inherent characteristics."

"Have you ever heard of the 'nature vs. nurture' theory?" I asked.

Kouji nodded thoughtfully. "It's the idea that the environment one is raised in can counteract anything passed down through the chromosomes. I won't reject it, but in a situation such as the one we're speaking about, I believe that, over time, nature would prove stronger."

Sighing, I reached over to wrap my arm around his waist again, burying my face in his hair. "I thought you were trying to _disprove_ the theory, not support it," I muttered, and I felt him smile against my cheek.

"I'm simply stating my opinions."

I smirked; Kouji always managed to turn the tables against me. It used to frustrate me, as many things about him did, but, as always, I learned to accept it. Kouji hated to be wrong, and though he would acknowledge the other side of the argument –which was usually my side– he wouldn't yield until he had refuted it. "Fine," I said, nuzzling closer to him. "You're right. Love will eventually fade away, and people of the future will all be emotionless test-tube babies. Can we go to sleep now? I'm tired."

Kouji chuckled, surprising me, for that was the last thing I'd expected him to do. His arm made its way around my waist, and he pulled me close. My surprise melted away at the feel of his lips on my neck. "Alright, Ryo. Goodnight."

"Goodnight love," I murmured before kissing his cheek and closing my eyes, face still nestled in his hair.


End file.
